Family Matters
by Stained Blue
Summary: Please stop fighting Mommy and Daddy
1. Please Stop Fighting

Title: Please Stop Fighting…  
Pairing: Ducky/Jethro  
Note: Don't own; squint your eyes and tilt your head to see the spoilers for Hiatus; Abby's POV. Rules at the bottom.

Ever since Gibbs came back from Mexico, it's like he's been a different person. Well, not really a different person, but definitely different. There's a strain here that wasn't there before Gibbs left. And it takes me longer than it should to figure it out.

But as Jimmy seeks refuge in my lab from an upset Ducky, it all makes sense. The stress, the strain…things have changed between him and Ducky, and that's not how it's supposed to be. Before Gibbs ran off to Mexico, they were my constants. We were their children, as Ducky called us. He doted on us, Gibbs kept us in check, and we were one big happy, if not dysfunctional, family.

Now? We're broken. We're all tiptoeing around Gibbs, except Ducky. As far as I know, Ducky has completely shut him out. And it's just all…wrong. So wrong. And I know I have to fix it.

I park outside of Gibb's house and let myself in, Rule #18, after all. I stride determinedly through the quiet house, knowing exactly where he'll be. I push open the door to his basement and notice all the lights are on. Moving down the steps, I stop halfway and call out "Can I come in?" I can hear him chuckle, "You're already in Abs." I finish moving down the steps and stare at him. He's methodical, in his element as he works on the ribs of the boat, and I watch him for a while before starting in.

"I don't know what's going on here but it's wrong." He stops and looks at me, brow furrowing. I tilt my head up and give him my best stern gaze. It fazes other people, but this is _Gibbs_. I _learned_ this look from him. I feel like a little girl standing up to Daddy for the first time. "You shouldn't have left. Ducky was heartbroken after you did, and that's wrong too. But now…you've broken stuff. You need to fix it."

He moves over to me, staring at me in a curious way. Finally, I let it break. I pout at him, my fingers curling into fists. I'm rigid, trying to show him I'm grown up, even though I know he looks at me like a little girl. His little girl. But dammit, I love Ducky too, and Gibbs is wrong. Stomping my heavy boot on the sawdust covered floor, I glare at him with my shoulders squared and my head up. "Rule #45 Gibbs."

Finally he sighs, and slumps, and I know I've won. He looks up at me, and he looks so lost. But I know I have to stay strong. He runs his fingers through his hair, dislodging sawdust, and looks away. "I know Abby, but I don't know _how_."

Okay, I break. I don't mean to, but I'm a Daddy's girl. But I don't let myself hug him. Instead, I lightly scold him. "Dammit Gibbs, you love Ducky! And he loves you too. And everything is all wonky with us. It's like mommy and daddy fighting! We can't be our best if you're not your best, if you're throwing Ducky off too." He rubs at his forehead, and I stomp my foot again, regaining his attention.

"You left, and Ducky's stories _stopped_. It was scary Gibbs. And I sleep in a coffin, in a funeral dress. I know scary. If you don't fix this _now_, you're going to lose him forever." I manage to give him a pitying look before I turn and start back up the stairs. I've said everything I need to say. "Abby," he calls after me, trying to get me to stop.

And I do. I stop at the top of the stairs, but I don't look back at him. "Rule #45 Gibbs," and then I slam the door behind me. For a second, I just stand there in the empty upstairs of Gibbs's silent house. It's eerie. Taking a deep breath, I pick my way back through the house.

Outside, everything is quiet. I glance back toward Gibbs's house before getting in my car and leaving. I've really done all I can. And well…if Gibbs doesn't fix it, then I guess they can have joint custody of us or something. Ducky can still dote on us, Gibbs can still keep us in line…and we can manage to be as happy as possible with that type of situation. But that scenario makes me want to cry. It makes my heart ache and my eyes and throat burn with the promise of tears.

I grip hard at the steering wheel as I drive home, "Please Gibbs, please…just fix this."

Rule #18: It's better to seek forgiveness than ask permission.  
Rule #45: Clean up your own mess.


	2. Mommy

Title: Mommy…  
Pairing: Ducky/Jethro  
Note: Don't own; never will. Kinda spoilers for Hiatus, but don't hold me to the script too much…Ducky's POV

My phone is ringing.

That's my first thought, as my conscious swims through my dreams. Groggily I sit up, reach for my glasses and turn on my bedside lamp. Finally, I spot the small device, shuddering its way across the tabletop while ringing. Jethro's name flashes across the front screen, and my heart seizes.

For a second, the dream I just woke from flutters in my mind. I can see Jethro getting into the elevator, the doors closing behind him, without a goodbye. Shaking my head, I reach out and grab the phone, pressing the green button. The phone had been Jethro's idea; he always wanted to be able to get ahold of me.

"Special Agent Gibbs?" Yes, yes, I know I'm being callous. But really, my heart still aches. He _left_. Without so much as a goodbye, or a warning, or anything…and I'm too old for that. Too old to care about someone who disappears without thinking of me first. There's a little pause on the other end before I hear Jethro's soft voice, "Hey Duck, will you let me in?"

The first thing that comes to mind, unintentionally mind you, is a broken and bleeding Jethro. My heart skips a painful beat, and I'm struggling out of bed before I really have time to think beyond him being hurt. "Are you alright?" My tone is tight, rushed as I practically stumble down the stairs as fast as my leg will allow. Now is not the time to trip and fall. "Yeah, just need to see you." And then I throw open the door frantically.

My eyes skim down his body, checking clothes for blood, bile, any sign of a fight. I check his exposed skin for protruding bones or lacerations. Nothing. Internally, I give a sigh of relief. Checking myself, I steel my gaze and look into those dark blue eyes. I can see him internally when I speak, "Well…Agent Gibbs what can I do for you." Even though it hurts him just as much as it hurts me to not call him Jethro, I have to disentangle my heart now.

I can't keep loving a man who doesn't love me back.

He gives me a crooked grin, the same one from when we first met, and I feel my heart flutter softly in my chest. "Not even gonna ask me in Duck?" Desperately, I want to say no. I want to shut the door in his face, leave him on my front porch, go back to bed, forget him. But I can't. Instead, I sigh and step back, letting him in before turning back to the stairs. I hear Jethro shut and lock the door; my house is the only one that he locks. But I guess there's plenty of reasons behind that, and I remember Ari and young Vincent Hanlan.

I don't have to look behind me to know he is following me up the stairs. We both know the way. I push open the door to my private sitting room, turn the lights on, and move into the room. I glance about the liquor cabinet, before selecting a relatively good scotch. I begin to pour us both a drink as he sits on the low smoking couch. I can feel him watching me.

Finally, I sit down in a matching chair, handing him his drink. Silence overtakes me, and I can see him thinking. I sip at the scotch, feeling it make its slow burning path down into my stomach. Normally it helps, but not this time. I'm still nervous, still afraid of what he has to say.

Though, rest assured, what he does say is not what I expected.

"I'm sorry." And it catches me off guard. I'm blinking rapidly, shocked before managing to find my composure again. Finally, I wryly smile at him, lightly reminding him, "Rule #6 Special Agent Gibbs." I can see his frustration as he drops his head into his palms, rubs his eyes, then pins me with a gaze. I can see the hurt there.

"Fuck Rule #6. What else am I supposed to say when I'm on the verge of losing my oldest, dearest friend? What else should I say when it's all I want to say when I look at you and see the hurt I caused you. When I look at you and remember that I didn't know you when I came out of the coma, though I'm sure you were always there. You always are Duck. Always." Then he's up, moving toward me, and I have to fight the urge to try to sink into the plush chair. He pulls me gently to my feet, stares deeply into my eyes. I can see his hurt, his honesty, his sadness.

" What else should I say when I've hurt the person I love most in world if not sorry?" I search his face, staring into those dark eyes, see the set of his mouth, the smoothness that makes me believe with all of my heart that he's telling me the truth. His words mirror my thoughts, putting me further at ease, "I'm not joking Duck. I mean it. Every day I was down there, I missed you. And I know that doesn't fix things but I want you to know it." His brow furrows as if steeling himself for it. And I can hear those words without him saying it. If he were stop here, I would be content.

But Jethro always seems to go above and beyond what is required of him. And he says it. "I want you to know I love you Duck. Always have." And I can't breathe. My tongue feels swollen, and I wouldn't be able to form words if I tried. Instead, we just stare at each other, and I can feel the slow burn consuming me. My throat clenches and my eyes ache. I don't want to cry, especially not in front of him, but I can't help it.

I look away when those damnable tears start to slip and spill down my cheeks. I clench my jaw, keeping the soft wounded noises in. I won't degrade myself further. "Duck," he whispers, "don't cry," and it makes my heart break. It makes me want to cry even harder, and I try to pull away, desperate to be free from his grip, but he pulls forward and into his embrace. I try to keep distanced from him, but all my defenses give as he cradles me closer to him, runs his hand along my back, touches my hair.

I press my face into his face, chest heaving as I try to keep the sobs in. I cling to him like I'm afraid of falling. I feel his head rest against mine, feel the words echo up from his chest. "It's alright Duck. I'm not going anywhere." And I want so hard to believe him.

Sniffling, I pull back and peer up at him. It's hard, granted, because my glasses are smudged, but I manage. He lifts a hand, running his thumb over a tear trail. I find it nearly unbearable to look into his eyes, to see the way he's looking at me.

"I really am sorry Duck. I love you, and I made a huge mistake. And…I don't know what else to say beside I'm sorry. I'll spend eternity gaining forgiveness so long as I get to spend it with you." My heart skips a beat, and I can feel the little smile tugging at my lips. "I forgave you the moment you stepped back into my morgue. I just…it hurt. I hurt." And it's true.

He tries to gather me back to him, but I won't let him. I stare up into those eyes, before looking away, and I can feel the blush creep over my cheeks. "Did you mean it?" And he doesn't respond right away. And my heart stops, my stomach clenches sharply. I should have known better, really I should have. I can feel those tears building in my eyes again, my throat constricting hard. I try to regulate my breathing, try to keep from crying again.

And then Jethro takes hold of my jaw, turning me back to look at him. "Of course I mean it Duck. I've never meant anything half as much in my entire life." And then he's kissing me, and nothing else matters. I feel myself relax into his strong embrace, surrendering myself to his kiss. And he's pulling me closer. My heart is beating quick, flippantly in my chest.

The desire to respond to it overtakes me, and I squirm in Jethro's grip. I feel him try to hold me, but then he's letting me go just enough so that I can pull back and look up at him. I trust him, love him, and can't imagine things any differently. My fingers reach out and touch his hand, making him smile, and I am powerless but to smile in return.

"I love you too Jethro." And I know everything is going to be alright.

Rule #6: Never apologize.


	3. And Daddy

Title: And Daddy  
Pairing: Ducky/Jethro  
Note: Still not mine; slight spoilers for Hiatus; Jethro's POV

I sit still on the stool, my ears still ringing with the words Abby said. My heart still aches with that promise. _If you don't fix this now, you're going to lose him forever._ That's what she told me. And I…I can't deal with that again. Waking up and not remembering Duck, I had felt like something was missing in my life. Even when he's not a known, he's an instinct.

He's like breathing.

My body recognizes him, accepts him, needs him. I need to hear those silly, told and retold stories. I need to see his inquisitive gaze, the brilliance in those blue eyes, the laughter. I need to see him smile, know I put that smile there. I just need him.

Sighing, I get to my feet and find the can I've hidden in my workspace. The smell is sharp, and I grimace, but take a big gulp of the alcohol anyway. It burns all the way down before it settles in my gut, consuming my stomach in a slow burn. Liquid courage for what I'm about to do. I rub at my face before sprinting up the stairs. I yank the door open, prowl through my dark, empty house, and slam the door behind me. I've never cared if the door was locked; if someone wanted in, they're get in. Now is no different situation. Ducky is more important than all the possessions in my house.

I'm in the car, jerking the key in the ignition, throwing it in gear within moments. I can't lose my nerve for this. My foot grinds the gas into the floorboard, and my eyes scan the road. I take the back roads toward the Reston house.

The entire drive, all I can think is Rule #45, because I have to fix this. If I don't fix this, then everything is damned. Sure, I was wrong to leave without goodbye, but Duck was the first one I came to when I came back. But by then, I know the damage was already done. I could see the hurt in those soft blue eyes.

All the trust I worked so hard to nurture, create, protect…gone in an instant. I slam my hand on the dash. "Stupid, stupid, stupid!" I huff out a deep breath, coasting past expensive houses in Reston. I could be blindfolded and still find my way here. I guess home calls the heart. Then I see Duck's house, one of the prettiest on the block, and my heart skips a beat.

I park in front of the garage, turn off the car, and just sit. My fingers clench around the steering wheel, before I look up at the dark house in front of me. Swallowing hard, I let memories wash over me. Duck had been my best man for all three marriages. He had made two house calls when they fell through: one when Diane hit me in the head with a 7 iron; another when Stephanie hit me in the head with a baseball bat.

So yeah, okay I made a mistake. A pretty big one. Duck's my oldest, dearest friend. And yeah, Abby was right when she said I loved him. I do. I love Duck like I never loved anyone minus Shannon and Kelly, like I thought I'd never be able to love again. I sigh and get out of the car, walk quietly up the steps. But I stop at the front door. I touch his key on my key ring, but I know that would be yet another violation of trust. If I come in uninvited, Duck will already be on edge.

Instead, I pull out my phone and push #1 and the green button. He's the only person I have on speed-dial, the only number I can recite without having to think about it for a few seconds. He answers on the second ring, "Special Agent Gibbs?" And I flinch, I'm Gibbs now…not Jethro. "Hey Duck…will you let me in?" I keep my tone light, hopeful, but the flurry of movement I can hear tells me he's worried. "Are you alright," he asks in a rushed tone, and I can hear his feet on the stairs. "Yeah, just need to see you." But he doesn't answer on the phone, instead yanking the door open in a rush.

His face is flushed, beautiful, and the worry has creased the corners of his soft blue eyes. His glasses are haphazardly sprawled on his face. I see him give me the glance over, looking for blood or bile or broken bones. Once I've cleared this, he meets my gaze stonily. "Well…Agent Gibbs what can I do for you." It stings that he doesn't even ask me in. I give him a crooked grin, trying to break his defenses down. "Not even gonna ask me in Duck?" Finally, with a sigh, he steps back and lets me in. I shut and lock the door behind me before following him back up the stairs.

We find our way into Duck's private sitting room, and I watch him as he pours me a generous amount of high quality scotch. How many times have I sat in this exact spot but under different circumstances? Often, too many to count. I take a gulp of the alcohol when he offers it to me before placing it on the table in front of me. Taking a steeling breath I look up into that wounded gaze. Rule #45.

"I'm sorry." Duck blinks rapidly, a little shocked before he offers me a wry smirk and responds in a chastising way "Rule #6 Special Agent Gibbs." Frustrated, I drop my head into my palms, rub at my eyes before looking up at him again. He's watching me carefully, and I decide that now is as good a time as any to bear it all.

"Fuck Rule #6. What else am I supposed to say when I'm on the verge of losing my oldest, dearest friend? What else should I say when it's all I want to say when I look at you and see the hurt I caused you. When I look at you and remember that I didn't know you when I came out of the coma, though I'm sure you were always there. You always are Duck. Always." I get up and cross over to him, pull him gently to his feet. I stare into his eyes, implore him to believe me.

"What else should I say when I've hurt the person I love most in world if not sorry?"

He looks at me, I can feel him searching my face for clues that I'm lying or joking. I grasp his hands and look into those soft eyes. "I'm not joking Duck. I mean it. Every day I was down there, I missed you. And I know that doesn't fix things but I want you to know it." I furrow my brow and bite the bullet. "I want you to know I love you Duck. Always have."

And then we're silent. He's looking at me. I'm looking at him. And it feels like an eternity. Then I see the tears building, swelling in his eyes. He looks away as they start to spill down his cheeks, his jaw working furiously. "Duck," I whisper, "don't cry." He tries to pull away from me, but I pull him into my arms. I hold him against my chest, cradling him to me like the treasure he is. I stroke his back, his soft hair, and press even tighter to him.

It doesn't stop me from feeling the hot, sticky tears that press against my neck the moment he gives into my hug, his face buried in my neck, the sharp jab of his glasses. I can feel his chest heave with silent sobs, and my heart breaks. This…this is all my fault. All this pain my beloved Ducky feels is because of me. His hands are clutching at me, his fingers biting at my skin through my clothes as he clings to me, and I rest my head against that mass of soft, heavy hair.

"It's alright Duck. I'm not going anywhere."

Sniffling, he pulls back and looks at me. There are tears still shining in his eyes, making his eyes even more beautiful. His glasses are smudged. Unthinkingly, I lift a hand and run a thumb across his cheek, destroying a glinting tear track. "I really am sorry Duck. I love you, and I made a huge mistake. And…I don't know what else to say beside I'm sorry. I'll spend eternity gaining forgiveness so long as I get to spend it with you."

A tiny smile plays at Ducky's mouth "I forgave you the moment you stepped back into my morgue. I just…it hurt. I hurt." I nod, trying to gather him to me again, but he stops me. Those soft eyes meet my gaze before looking away, and he blushes softly. "Did you mean it?" I don't have to ask him to be more specific. I already know what he's talking about. Do I love him? And I think about it hard because I owe him that.

When we first met, I had thought him attractive, charming. And afterward, caring. He was brilliant, kind, full of words and wisdom. We became fast friends. I was grateful when he stood beside me as my best man as I married, and then again when he stitched me back together. I remember all the times I'd nearly lost him before, and my heart clenches in my chest so violently that I can't breathe. I can't even begin to imagine Duck being gone. And I know.

I take a gentle hold of his jaw, turn his face to meet my gaze. I stare into those eyes for just a moment, but I feel myself getting lost. "Of course I mean it Duck. I've never meant anything half as much in my entire life." And then I kiss him, because…well, because it seems the right thing to do. He relaxes into my arms, and I support him, pressing closer. And when I feel the quick, eradicate beat of his heart against my chest, I know I picked right.

He squirms in my grip, and finally I let him go. Those soft blue eyes stare up at me, and I can see the trust, the love I don't deserve. I feel his fingers touching my hand, the digits deft and sure. I smile at him, and he returns it. Even if he doesn't say those words, I'll know. But he says them, and my heart twists and clenches in my chest.

"I love you too Jethro." And I know everything is going to be alright.

Rule #45: Clean up your mess.  
Rule #6: Never apologize.


End file.
